Disclaimer: OCs that may or may not appear are my own. Anything else belongs to Lucasfilm and or Tolkien. Steal my ideas and you will burn. Or not.

Warning: Any content within that causes your head to explode or coffee to erode your computer monitor because you spit it out from shock is your own fault for taking it to an actual reaction point.

Another Warning: Inspired mainly by Jandalf's Insanity Prevailing and Yoda Clone's Paint Wars-- plus some random chattage with mentioned Orange Jedi Master. Be very, very afraid.

You are warned. Here there be dragons.

---Star Wars: Amusingly Melodramatic Title Goes Here---

Chapter One:

A long time ago in a galaxy not particularly far away, at least if you had borrowed Bill and Ted's excellent phone booth and knew the phone number necessary for the time travel needed, there was a couple of random Jedi Knights. Well, one was a Padawan, but that was unnecessary knowledge at the moment, thus bringing about the need to burn the reader at the stake or interrogate them for being spies.



These two particularly noteworthy Jedi lived in the galaxy that was a long time ago and not particularly far away. It was actually in the same location as one Terra, merely a long time ago, to give credit to George Lucas. This, of course, meant that it contradicted with Middle-earth, and there were a bunch of random paradoxes that occurred and caused the continuum to blow up.

These two unnamed still Jedi did have a purpose, of course, besides randomly appearing to advance the plot that hasn't yet taken shape.



Gah! Readers! The two Jedi were Cry-Gon Aninn the Purple and Tify-Wan Munobi. They were on a remarkable mission of remarkable and incredible importance to the fate of the galaxy... that's right.

They were off to return their library books to the Isenation Federation before they were charged with the three million credit overdue fee per hour!

"Gah!" the younger one suddenly stressed. Though she looked remarkably older than her Master. Or the other way around.

What do you know about it anyway? Huh? HUH?

"Gah, Padawan?" the potentially older one asked, proving that she was indeed the older with her choice of title.

"Gah!" she repeated. "The hyperdrive motivator unit isn't going to bring us there in time."

"Then, Padawan, do the math and figure out exactly how many credits we will owe the Isenation."


"Yes. Math."

"But MOOOMMMM... um. Master."

"No whining," her Master ordered.


"Stop whining or I will smite you where you stand! And do the math!"

Tify-Wan folded her arms and muttered random curses that were both unnecessary to the plot and caused her Master to force her to eat a bar of soap and cut her tongue out. Somehow in the meantime, she managed to get a cybernetic tongue and carry on muttering.

"X equals negative b plus or minus the square root of negative b plus 4ac all over 2a," she said randomly. Which actually made some sense, if you were looking for the quadratic formula.


"Master, we're about to drive through an elsewhere and elusive space ship approximately three point two eight meters in front of us," Tify-Wan pointed out.

Cry-Gon Aninn attempted to react in time. Unfortunately, she wasn't fast enough, and they drove through the space ship causing the unfortunate and purposeful explosion of several cookies which made absolutely no sound as they were in vacuum. This temporarily knocked off the blockade on returning library books, and all of the Naboo-Shire folk were glad.

The Jedi Master used the Force to levitate their books into the return slot. "Aha!" she yelled triumphantly. "They are back!"

Tify-Wan folded her arms and muttered again.

"What was that bet, Padawan?"

Tify-Wan scowled, and handed her Master a pack of gum. "Fine."

"Hah!" Cry-Gon pocketed the gum. "I told you we'd get them back on time."

They were unfortunately and conveniently dragged in by a tractor beam, reminding the two of the more pressing mission at hand.

"Gah!" Tify-Wan yelled. "I told you it was elsewhere and elusive. I have a bad feeling about this. It's a conspiracy! Why do WE always have to get into things like thi..."

"Padawan. Shut up. Now."

"You're using excessive punctuation on me!"

"Yes. And if you don't quit whining and otherwise ranting, I will personally steal the keyboard from the narrator, and write you into a more fitting character other than an insertion as Obi-Wan."


"Yes." Cry-Gon folded her arms. "And that's not an idle threat."

Tify-Wan Munobi gazed out of the window at the shimmering stars far beyond the horizon of Naboo-Shire, and suddenly shivered as a stirring swell of the Imperial March began to drum away forebodingly and otherwise doomish. "You know, Master, I do have a bad feeling about this."

"Yes, well, this isn't the time. We're about to fly into an Acme Disintegrator Gun."

"WHAT!" she yelled, though the text should've been about 28 times larger than shown.

Cry-Gon proceeded to go deaf. "What?"

"I said 'what' with several attached exclamation points and question marks."


"I just SAID what!"

"Speak up, Padawan!"

"GAH!" Tify-Wan pulled out a set of cybernetic ear drums and installed them somehow without time proceeding to move forward at all. "Master, get a life."

"That's it, you're grounded!"


"And stop whining."


"And... why don't you just stop talking while we're at it? We're about to be disintegrated."

Tify-Wan nearly repeated the previous experience with rather large text and exclamatory marks, but remembered in the nick of time that it would make her Master go deaf, and the plot otherwise slow down for random unnecessary additions. So she didn't, and comforted herself with the fact that she was a self-insertion of one of her favorite characters. All the while panicking, of course.

"Can I panic?"

"No. Think rationally, Padawan."

"Can I have my gum back?"

In the meantime, Cry-Gon Aninn was busy piloting their shuttle around extensively random appearing Tie-fighters and having a deadly space battle with several buzz droids that were attempting to drill their way through the hull, hissing things along the lines of give us the Ring... A few seconds later, she swerved dramatically through a loop of laser shots and sent the ship twirling up seconds before it hit an energy shield. "No!"

"Why not!" Tify-Wan whined.

"BECAUSE I'M BUSY!" Cry-Gon yelled.

Tify-Wan suddenly looked outside the portholes and realized they were in the middle of a raging and dramatically deadly space battle. "That's strange. It's not suppose to start with a battle."

History became legend... legend became myth...

"I still want gum..."

Cry-Gon leaned over and sealed her mouth over with a piece of duct tape, and locked her Padawan in place. She sent the ship into a tight loop, whirling in to shoot at the shield generator that blocked the one place they could land aboard the sinister looking battle ship, and opened a comm. "This is the Republic ambassador!" she yelled. "You fire upon an unar..." She glanced down at the lasers. "Well. Rather armed transport..."

Dodging another shot, she whirled up and around again. "Don't shoot, we come in peace!"

"Jeedai fools," the comm growled.

"I'm an ambassador and a WIZARD!" Cry-Gon yelled. "Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks! I've already returned my library books!"

"Oh, well, in that case..." Suddenly all the Tie Fighters vanished, and all shields were lowered. "What do ya want?" the comm voice growled.

"We're here on a diplomatic mission concerning the blockade. We wish to board at once."

"Mpphph mrmrprmmm phmm!" Tify-Wan added.

Cry-Gon sighed, and reached over to rip the duct tape off of her Padawan's mouth.

"OW!" Tify-Wan covered her mouth, sounding remarkably in pain.

"Stop complaining and shut up."

There was a few random buzzes from the comm unit, a snicker or three. Then the remarkably evil sounding voice spoke up again. "This blockade of library books is... perrrfectly evil... I mean... legal. Of cooourse you're velcome aboard..."

"Dracula, is that you!" Tify-Wan asked, peering suspiciously at the comm unit.

There was a series of random and annoyed cursing. "Curses! You veren't suppose to figure me out! Curse you! CUUURRSEEE YOUUUUU..." It suddenly cut off, and the two Jedi exchanged nervous glances.

Cry-Gon was the first to recover. "Well."

"Well." Tify-Wan nodded.

"Shall we go in?"

"I think so."



Cry-Gon blinked.

Tify-Wan snickered.

"What's so amusing, Padawan?"

"I have no idea."

Cry-Gon peered at the comm suspiciously. "How do you know Dracula, Padawan?" she asked with a hint of suspicious irony to her voice.

Tify-Wan hid a bottle of catsup behind her back. "Oh..."

And don't you dare say he was in your grad class. You know that's not your job.

"Fine." Tify-Wan sulked.

Besides, you're not graduated yet. And stop whining and sulking. You're starting to remind me of a Skywalker really, seriously, badly. I'll have to reinsert you as Tiphnakin Whinywalker instead.


Then stop it!


Cry-Gon looked remarkably confused by this point. "Padawan, who were you talking to?"

"The narrator."

"Riiiiight..." The Jedi Master was suddenly tempted to phone up the men in white coats.

"Anyway. Dracula was in my crèche class."

"He was a youngling with you?"

"Yeah," she muttered.

"Dracula was a Force-sensitive?"


"You were friends?"

"Sort of..."

The Jedi-Wizard-Master-Diplomat-Whateversheis narrowed her eyes. "You weren't his girlfriend, were you?"

"No!" the Padawan yelled.

"Oh. Well. Just checking."

The comm buzzed again. "You know, you were told you could land about five minutes ago."

"No, we weren't," Padawan Tify-Wan said logically, ignoring a vicious glare from her Master that was icy enough to potentially out freeze Hoth, or at least cause a snowstorm on Tatooine. "You only said that we were welcome aboard. Nowhere was mentioned that we had to come on bo..."

She was cut off as Cry-Gon slapped another piece of duct tape over her mouth, and took the comm. "Of course, we'll be right there," the Jedi Master said calmly, and signed out, reaching over to rip off the piece of tape yet again.

"OW! THE AGONY!!" Tify-Wan wailed, missing bold on the last exclamation point as she gave up on wailing and touched her mouth gingerly, wondering if she would ever be able to eat again.

Cry-Gon pursed her lips, and steered the ship in while her Padawan panicked and attempted to find a way to put the little hairs that grew around her lip in. She was busy attempting to put little tiny pieces of glue on the nearly invisible hairs and stick them back to her red skin (in a little square shape around her mouth) when they landed.


"Pphppmpmpmpmhhph gggmgmg?" Tify-Wan asked thoughtfully.


Tify-Wan grabbed a datapad and scribbled on it: I glued my mouth shut.

"Padawan, I can't read English."

Tify-Wan moaned, and rewrote it in Aurebesh.

"Ah." Cry-Gon nodded. "Good."

Her Padawan shot her a vicious glare that was nasty enough to kill, had the option for gazes to kill been there. Unfortunately, all it could do was look particularly nasty.

Cry-Gon sighed, lamenting the fact that her Padawan had to be able to talk, and wretched her mouth open.

"OOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!" Tify-Wan fell over, wailing about pieces of her mouth being where they didn't belong.

Cry-Gon gave her 1.000000002132 seconds to recover, then tossed her her robe and lightsaber. "Get up. We're going now, and I don't mean to return," she ordered.


"Oops... wrong movie."

-That's all for now! Please review POSITIVELY... unless your head blew up before you could-